


Ol' Faithful

by ecrituredudesir



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Condom Breaking, Condoms, M/M, PWP without Porn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 11:19:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12769935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecrituredudesir/pseuds/ecrituredudesir
Summary: “This is ol’ Faithful.” McCree says, while brandishing his wallet in one hand and a thin looking condom wrapper in the other. Hanzo looked up from his bow, carefully polished and the string freshly drawn and tied in his lap.“Is that so?”





	Ol' Faithful

“This is ol’ Faithful.” McCree says, while brandishing wallet in one hand and a thin looking condom wrapper in the other. Hanzo looked up from his bow, carefully polished and the string freshly drawn and tied in his lap. 

“Is that so?” 

McCree gave a low grin that spread his lips and flashed a warmness in his eyes that draws crows feet up his smile lines. Hanzo had learned to expect little ‘surprises’ like this, and the other’s nickname for a condom neither surprised him, nor drew suspicion of his motives. At the look in Jesse’s eyes, the archer sets aside the bow, and with careful precision—tauntingly so, almost, in the way he moves slowly to fold the cloth away and screw the lid back on the polish he’d been using to refresh his weapon—he takes note to not ask further. No, he’d let his cowboy explain his logic behind such an oddly named wallet place-holder. 

“Yep,” Jesse hummed, taking silent steps towards where the other sat on the edge of his bed, in their shared room at Gibraltar. He had left his spurred boots at the door, and Hanzo was keenly aware of the lack of jingling metal on metal. Taking the bow gingerly, earning a sharp glance for it (Hanzo had only recently allowed him to grasp it, and his eyes stayed on him like a hawk until it left his hands), he moved to place it aside so he could settle himself in next to the other and brush his chin against the other’s shoulder. Hanzo’s grip on the little kit he kept to service his weapon tightened, his resolve staying as firm as steel. Jesse blew a teasingly warm breath across the lobe of the other’s ear. 

“Cause I told myself,” the slow drawl continued, “that it was gonna be the one I use with a sweetheart I’m real soft on.” 

Hanzo knew that the other had a strange way of showing his affection and fondness, but this was something entirely unexpected, and a laugh slips from his lips before he can hinder it. The little noise draws an even warmer grin from McCree, who busies himself with nuzzling the cleft of skin between the shoulder and neck of his favorite teammate. He lays kisses with nibbles of warmth to the other’s throat, before murmuring to the skin. “And it jus’ so happens to expire next month, so I figured now would be a good’a time as any.” 

The maintenance kit is taken from Hanzo’s hand, and placed on the bedside table. The world spins briefly as the cowboy settles to move their positions, sliding in front of the other to give a light push. Hanzo’s back hits the mattress just in time for Jesse to settle between his legs. The archer isn’t sure if he’s flattered that Jesse hadn’t apparently had a more worthy bed partner in the several years it took for a condom to expire, or curious if Jesse was simply flattering him because of the impending expiration date. Regardless, such thoughts are chased away when he feels teeth scrape gingerly against his exposed nipple, tongue soothing the sting afterwards. The grind of Jesse’s hips forward against his own were equally distracting, the pressing firmness of Jesse’s already present erection though the layers of clothing offering a thrilling friction against his own. 

“You didn’t think that I might be too busy to entertain these desires?” Hanzo hummed in slow retort, eyes shining briefly as he teases the other with the possibility of delay, his fingers carding through chestnut brown locks, skewing where the other’s hat would normally be. Broad hands settle under his chest, and for a second, Hanzo took a deep breath as he felt broad hands, one a bit chillier than the other, settle under his shoulder blades to lift him up further on the bed. The adjustment is much more comfortable, with Hanzo’s back resting to the pillows as Jesse kept his lips busy with kisses and nibbles along his ribs and, with a little adjustment of the archer’s top, lower. 

“No darlin’, I really didn’t.” The words were whispered with a sly, devious grin as brown eyes glimpsed up with a flash of mischief. 

They both knew that Hanzo cleaned his bow when he tended to have little else better to do. It was one step above meditation, a habit lately picked up more from Genji to find peace with rather than battle his inner demons, on his level of ‘I have no other pre-occupations.’ With the way Hanzo’s breath hitched as Jesse’s fingers casually worked loose his clothing, sliding the other half of fabric down his chest and working with no reservations on his pants, they both knew that there’d be little that would stop either of them at this point. 

While they’d done this plenty of times without a condom, Hanzo wasn’t going to question the other’s sudden motivation for protection, especially not with the metal fingers of Jesse’s prosthetic tugging at the fabric of his pants, and much warmer ones massaging him through it at the same time. His lips were occupied with a fresh kiss, the brush of Jesse’s beard against his own offering a subtle tickle that brought his lips up to an amused quirk, something that never failed to lift his expression. Jesse’s hips rolled once, pressed more to his thigh now with the other backing off to undress him, and Hanzo took the care to reach up, helping untuck the other’s shirt from his pants. McCree had gone through the ‘kindness’ of removing his vest for once, leaving only the button up for him to pop the buttons open. 

Hanzo can’t help but contemplate over how their position was almost innocent compared to some of their earlier forays and more intimate moments. He registers his legs are lifted once Jesse manages to undo the knot of fabric keeping him out of his pants, and he’s almost naked against the material of Jesse’s chaps. For all of the slow, ‘romantic’ buildup, Jesse was too impatient to move to shed his own pants. Once Hanzo’s were out of the way, followed by the archer’s underwear, Jesse was quick to unbutton the layer of jean material under the leather chaps, shoving his pants and underwear down to his thighs to get in a slow, direct grind by wrapping fingers around their cocks together. 

The noise he draws from Hanzo is not quite a gasp and not quite a moan, a mixed, quick inhale that had his head tilting back and exposing his throat for McCree to lavish in little nibbles and marks. “Grab the lube, babe,” the cowboy croons into the small of his shoulder, and almost breathless, Hanzo’s free hand fishes for it in the bedside table while McCree teasingly tries to undo them both before he has a chance for it. The Shimada nearly had to swat away the other’s stroking hand to find the concentration to grasp the little bottle, though just as quickly as he’d retrieved it, Jesse nicked it from his hand and popped open the plastic cap, finally releasing the grip he held on both of them to coat two fingers with the slick semi-fluid. 

Though they weren’t exactly sexually inactive, Hanzo had rarely seen Jesse this quick and intent for a session between them. He barely has the time to part his legs a bit around the other’s thighs to make it easier before he feels one finger, nails neatly trimmed to avoid discomfort in situations like this, stroke along the tight ring of his entrance. With no firm grip around him, no friction pushing him to a quicker climax, Hanzo’s breath relaxes from the rabbit’s pace that it’d been building up to. He’s not as tight as he would be normally—they’d been together yesterday morning, when they’d thought McCree would be called out that afternoon for a mission. He hadn’t been, which was probably why he was more than happy to sidle up with him again this afternoon. 

Jesse takes no leisurely pace with slipping it in, finding little resistance, and then adding a second after a few quick strokes. Hanzo’s hands moved, fingers dragging against the curve of the back of Jesse’s shoulder; he’d gotten the shirt open, but not off, and he had to tuck his hand under the fabric to get and real purchase against the skin. It seemed for all of his quickness, McCree’s roaming fingers weren’t actually to stretch the other, there was little need for that at the moment, but he wanted to make sure the other was well lubed. The condom may have been pre-lubricated, but there was no telling how much of that had been preserved after several years and lack of use. He does this twice, pulling fingers out once to reapply more of the slick substance before pushing in again, scissoring his fingers in slow, even motions, and pressing in knuckles deep to tease the bundle of nerves he knew the location of all too well. 

By the time Hanzo moans, precum beading well at the tip of his cock from the stimulation, Jesse was already tearing the corner of the condom open between his teeth and unlubed, metallic fingers. He only pulls his fingers free from the other’s heat to take the careful time in sliding the condom down, unrolling it across the head of his own member first, then down the length of his cock, giving a few strokes to keep him hard for the application process. Hanzo takes this precious time to brush one knee up along the other’s hip, the softness of his inner thigh pressing to McCree’s, and Jesse’s aware those few strokes were entirely unnecessary when he glances up to see the arousal in the archer’s dark glance. 

Jesse shifted his hips, lifting Hanzo’s up to line up with the well lubed, tight ring, and pressed the head of his arousal in with a slow rock forward. It’s a slow, precarious movement at first, though when met with little discomfort and more demand on Hanzo’s quiet breath than anything else, he tilted forward again to press in. The pace that Jesse sets is nothing short of impatient. His metallic hand presses against the headboard of the bed, while his other sets against the archer’s curve of hip. The rocking pace of hips colliding against hip pushes Hanzo first to the pillows, and the next start to shake the actual frame of the bed. Jesse is far more vocal than Hanzo, he always is, but the low grunts of exertion are mixed with the throaty gasps of the man under him. 

A curse slips free when, close to his finish, he feels a little tell-tale snap of plastic, a breach in the tightness surrounding his dick. He unravels before he can stop, before he can pull back and amend the issue. It isn’t like they’d been hesitant at all before to go at it raw, though McCree was usually more fond of giving Hanzo a bit more warning before doing so, considering the mess it tended to make. Too close though, far too close, he lets out a throaty little moan against the other’s shoulder, his fingers wrapped around Hanzo’s member in a few, swift strokes that finishes off his lover as well. Hanzo’s nails dug against the Jesse’s shoulder as he felt the little rush of heat that accompanied Jesse’s orgasm, only registering it with some confusion when Jesse pulled out with a sheepish grin, leaving a thin trail of semen in his wake. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” the cowboy murmured, slight guilt registering as he rolls off the shreds of the broken condom. “Guess the damn thing wasn’t as reliable as the real ol’ Faithful after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> For other works and commission information, check out my page here: http://ecrituredudesir.tumblr.com/


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